


before the tide.

by newrromantics



Category: Gossip Girl
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-08-29 01:44:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16734684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newrromantics/pseuds/newrromantics
Summary: He had been there before.Blair had almost managed to erase Dan Humphrey from her mind, a teenage boarding school obsession that had become a faint memory in more recent years. But estranged-sometimes-BFF Serena has managed to dredge up the past for Blair by pushing Dan straight back into her life.A multi-chapter work that looks at the past, the present, and the future.





	before the tide.

**before the tide.**

 

 

Beautiful.

It's the one word that springs to her mind when she thinks back on that time. Dreamy, hazy images flood her brain. Italian summer landscapes that stretch on for miles. His dimple, a lopsided smile, an abundance of curls. Running in every sense of the word, endless, everything was always endless back then. It felt as if one second would stretch on forever and never cease to end. The days, the water, the friendships, the fields, the school days, him.

It was always him. In the back of the classroom, in the front of his car, by her side at the pool. In her bed, the two of them hidden under silk sheets flown over by her house-keeper, sharing secrets, trusting one-another with everything. Bickering on the side-step, on the field trip to Rome, in the square, in class debates, even at the train station as she said goodbye.

He had been perhaps the most beautiful thing she ever saw in Italy. Her memories are clouded with snippets of his frame; lanky and awkward, tall and confident, shy and sturdy, unkept and lacking a refined sense of style, but a charm through the way his body moved and his words. His hands flying everywhere when he was passionate, the way his lips quirked upwards when he made a good point, that little gleam in his eye when he attached onto a good theory and kept hammering at it. The way he read, his body folded up into his chair, fingers flicking past pages, his tongue darting out to his thumb to help ease the movement of the book.

He always knew where to find the most beautiful places, too. He's the one who showed her the hiking trails she'd come back to by herself to find a second of sanity amongst the chaos. He's the one who took her swimming at what had felt like the edge of the universe, the water such a calm and cool blue to dive into. He'd been the one to drag her to endless artsy cafes in the square, twirling her around and buying her the most delicious Italian treats to try. He'd been the one to book the two of them train tickets for the weekend, travelling around the countryside. He knew what was secret and sacred, and what was still a tourist attraction but lovely.

She wanted to hold onto that beauty for ever. Back then, she thought she could.

 

 

**1.**

**the prologue.**

 

Blair is twenty-eight and four months when her life unravels (again).

There is the dissolution of a marriage, not her's, but an estranged friends that sends her perfectly curated existence back into turmoil. There have been many times over the years where the seams of her carefully crafted life have split apart, the insides of her stuffed toy spilling out into black tar, mould infecting every corner of her apartment. Blair has picked herself up each time, found her sewing kit and stitched her life back into place. She was meticulous with the details, insisting on every part being just  _perfect_ , but she was finding herself tired from putting things back into place.

Serena had been her longest friend all her life. Wild, and flighty, and never purposely mean but always cruel. She had been the centre of the universe, the golden beam at which everyone fell, she was the religious altar that boys would worship and her laugh had inspired countless hit songs. Blair used to call her a muse before anyone else did, a siren, a princess, a golden girl. Serena was bathed in the light of the sun. She was fun and careless and cool, easy-going, breezy, Serena with her mess of golden strands and her chipped black nail-polish and her boyfriend jeans with her white collar shirt and the missing buttons, the bright lips and brighter eyes, the way she could knock back eight tequila shots in a row without slurring a word.

Blair got the attraction, too, she'd been the first to ever truly be enamored by Serena. That was back in Pre-K. Serena had worn her hair in two pig-tails she'd torn at all day long, the ends of her hair a frizzy mess. Her dress was a bright blue, ruffled at the sleeves, but she'd managed to have it disheveled by mid-morning break. Her knees were smudged with dirt, and she had bright red crayon scribbled all up and down her arm. Blair couldn't look away from her; it was as if gravity was pulling her towards her. Serena was chatty and friendly and bright, but she hadn't made any friends yet. Blair had been on play-dates with almost everyone in that class, but not Serena, not yet.

They bonded over Blair's drawing. Blair in the middle of the page, flanked by Mommy Eleanor and Daddy Harold, hearts surrounding their perfect little family. She can't remember what they talked about. But she could remember that feeling of warmth rushing over her, the enveloping safety of one of her daddy's hugs, the brush of her mommy's kiss at night. Serena was to be her home away from home. It was from that moment on that the two girls were inseparable, as if the universe had designed them to never be able to be apart.

Their friendship had gone through  _many_ up's and down's over the years - breakups, fights, clothes, movie deals, lost novels, boys, boys, boys, Penelope's tea-cup birthday party in sixth grade, cheating, parent's divorces, boarding school, drug addictions, bulimia, radio silence for three years in their early twenties, a car accident. Blair lost count of all the times the two of them fell apart, ugly tears, mascara smudged faces, nasty words shouted at each other for the whole world to hear.

She had never hated anyone with the ferocity she had hated Serena with at times, but she had also never loved anyone more than she had loved Serena with at times.

Blair had missed the actual wedding, the two of them in the midst of a make-up from a three year long conflict but not as close as they'd once been to be able to mend the damage overnight. She had not received the invitation to Serena's nuptials, but then again, not many people did. Blair could recall many angry friends hearing about the wedding second-hand, no invitation extended in sight. It had been a beautiful ceremony, spread over tabloid magazines for everyone to gawk at. Page six did a whole spread about it. Gossip Girl was no longer active by that point to care.

Serena married an artist, maybe to spite her parents, or maybe because she was truly in love. Blair kept their talks civil, so she never inquired to ask.

But Blair is around for the fall-out. Serena's cheating. The divorce. Her oldest best friend moving into the spare room in Blair's penthouse. The mornings filled with silence. The late nights Serena spends out, calling her crying. The days of Blair are put on the back-burner as she rushes to the aid of her best friend's need, despite the years of distance between them and the chilly feeling when they're in the same room, Blair is still expected to mend Serena's heart. She'd do the same for her, of course, wouldn't she?

But it's when Serena starts putting her life back together that the true unravelling takes place. The disaster Serena swoops into their life. The new boyfriend she finds once her wild ways are put back on the mend and her heart is healing itself, the writer she finds in a bar in Brooklyn, curly hair, a fantastic smile, a lanky body,  _oh he's so sweet, B!_ and she brings him 'round for dinner one night, cooks for him herself, and Blair isn't even supposed to be there, but she has a work dinner to attend and needs to rush home to grab a new purse and change her heels when she runs smack-bang into Dan Humphrey in her living room.

Blair almost doesn't recognise him at first. He's just this stranger sitting on her couch, his head propped up by his hand, flicking through one of her books. A classic, red cover, but the name eludes her. She writes him off as Serena's latest obsession, already rushing past him when she catches sight of his curls, the long fingers, the curve of his jawline and freezes. His name escapes her lips before she registers who he is.

Dan looks up, confused for a second, and then she can spot the recognition flash across his face, the slight shock, and then the smile. The soft glee that spreads across his face for a split second before it's replaced by a question mark in his eyes. He puts the book down. Blair feels ill - she hasn't seen him since...she racks her brain. One night, four long years ago, a dark bar in Austria, his fingertips pressed into the curve of her shoulder, the weight of their history spread thin between them for just a brief moment. He's never been here before. She's always known he lived in New York, and the city is so big yet so small, she kept expecting to see him on the streets for years, but then she stopped expecting to see him, and she never did.

"Blair, I-" He stands up in one fluid movement, walking towards her.

"I'm late for dinner." Blair manages to strangle out, rudely turning on her heel and racing up her stairs. She can almost write him off as a figment of her imagination, a dream she dreamt, a hallucination brought on by lack of sleep. They'd all be a more believable answer than the one that's staring at her. Serena's brand new perfect boyfriend is downstairs in Blair's living room and he's Dan Humphrey.

It's almost too absurd to fathom.

Serena never knew of his existence, so Blair supposes she can't exactly fault her for this indecent deed. It's just like Serena to dredge up the past by mistake, a gorgeous coincidence that she'd laugh off,  _oh that's so funny, B._ It's also exactly like Serena to curl her manicured fingertips around a boy Blair has loved and claim him as hers. It's happened before. It would happen again. She buries those feelings down into the pit of her stomach, ignoring the flight of butterflies taking hold inside of her, the immense amount of betrayal flooding through her veins. Serena is unaware, she reminds herself, this is not a ploy to hurt her.

She looks down at her hand, the dazzling three-piece diamond situated on her finger. The gold band accompanying it.

There is no reason for her to care anymore. Dan is a ghost of her past, an old acquaintance from boarding school, a man she doesn't know at all. There is nothing left between them except for extinct memories Blair has buried down into the depths of hell. As far as she's concerned, they never happened. As far as anyone else will know, Dan was a classmate she barely memorised the name of.

Blair's lies have always sounded best to herself, of course.

In a swift movement she has picked up a new purse and swapped her heels, dabbed more blush onto her cheeks and swiped a ferocious red onto her lips. She shimmies out of her work blazer, hanging it gently on it's hanger, before grabbing a new navy coat to throw on over her simple black dress. There's a part of her that looks into the mirror and sees someone regal, sophisticated, mature and there's another part of her that sees a fraud, teetering on the edge of boring, approaching the dreaded thirty. Blair frowns for a minute, almost scared to wander back out into her own living room in fear of seeing Dan; in fear of Dan seeing her. She's wondering what he's thinking, right now - long gone are the years where she was able to read him like an open book, and back then, she thinks she was wrong in all of her conclusions.

From downstairs she can hear Serena's loud, booming laugh. She can picture the golden locks being flipped carelessly over her shoulder. Her fingertips holding onto the curve of Dan's shoulder. Her lips pressed up near his ear as she whispers him a secret. Her eyes coy as she flirts. Blair feels queasy at the thought, winces at the sound, and feels the familiar feeling of jealousy creep up around her.

Blair creeps down the stairs, catching a glimpse of his curls and her long locks from the kitchen. Serena is perhaps the last woman she ever expected Dan to be with, but she supposes every man under the sun would be with Serena if given the chance. There's not a single man that has ever turned her down in her life, of that Blair is certain of.

Serena manages to spot her as Blair is trying to escape. A bright grin overtaking her whole face as she calls out her name, "B!" she exclaims, beckoning her forward so she can introduce Blair to the latest love of her life.

"I'm late, Serena." Blair replies, heading straight towards the elevator.

Serena frowns, "Don't be rude. Come and meet Dan."

"I actually know Blair." Dan replies. Of course he'd dredge up the past. A wicked feeling crosses over her, seething anger as she turns and makes her way into the kitchen. How dare he, she thinks; he would be the one to ruin her perfectly envisioned image of  _brief_ recognition of one-another. Dan wouldn't grasp the inappropriate nature of detailing their past affairs to the woman he was currently dating, the best-friend of former past affair. He wasn't raised on this side of the bridge, Blair reminds herself, a lack of proper etiquette and manners. "We were in the same class at the Angelo Academy."

Serena's eyes widen in surprise, clapping her hands together in glee. "Oh, that's wonderful! Blair has never talked to me about the Angelo Academy, you can tell me all the naughty things she's kept hidden from me."

Blair narrows her eyes at Dan, folding her arms across her chest. "Please," She scoffs in disdain, "I barely knew Dan. He would know nothing about me." The words are a warning, her eyes locked firmly on Dan.

"Yes," He agrees. "I only remember you from passing." 

Blair hums in agreement, effectively ending the conversation there. The mere mention of the Angelo Academy has her stomach tightened in knots. The sight of Dan Humphrey a gruesome scene she wishes to never see again. In fact, when she's back from dinner she'll plant little seedlings of doubt in Serena's mind and get the whole relationship chucked out the window. The Angelo angle might work to her advantage, made-up stories of the past to send a shiver down Serena's spine. It's hard to get her to budge her opinion on a boy once she's made up her mind that he's the sun and the stars, but Blair can try.

"Well, this little catch up has been enlightening but I'm afraid I have somewhere better to be." Blair says coldly. "Serena, I'll see you tomorrow." Her eyes linger on Dan for a brief second, nodding him farewell before departing.

Once outside Blair allows herself to catch her breath. There's an image she's imagined of the two of them entangled together she can't erase. Serena's long, golden limbs against Dan's gangly pale skin. His lips against the shell of her ear, whispering about love poems he's written for her. Countless men have written about Serena, and Dan's a writer after all, she supposes she'd be his latest muse.

There's a sinking, empty feeling in her stomach as she climbs into the cab. Nothing can ever be hers. Serena has to take everything she can from her - parents, boyfriends, jobs, schools, siblings, dresses. Anything she could get her hot, sticky hands onto she would. But worse yet is the fact that Dan could fall for a girl like Serena when she's so vastly different from Blair. It's the fact that Dan could somehow get over her, when she's never been able to get rid of him, even if she was the one who  _really_ left. It's the fact that she'll have to interweave her life with Dan's again, after all these years. It's the fact that she could look at him and still feel captivated by him, entranced by the mere vision of him, the memory of him, his voice.

It's a loss of control. Her life spiralling out of her grasp, sinking and swirling around her.

Dan Humphrey, after all these years. She leans back into the cushion of the cab, closing her eyes briefly as she captures the last image she had of him before tonight. His body half-covered by a sheet she had disentangled from, his hair laid out messily over the pillow-case, his lips a rosy-red, face turned to the side, his eyelashes impossibly long and delicate against his face. Blair had taken one long, hard, last look at him and committed it to memory. A dark bar in Austria, the upstairs room he'd been staying in, one last sweet moment between them. She had tracked him across Europe for this, one final goodbye, but she choked on the words last minute.

She had choked on them when she left the first time, too.

Blair casts her eyes away from his body, away from all the could-have-been's, and returned back to the world of the living. In the next year she was to be wed at a beautiful, sprawling ceremony in the South of France. Dan sent her a post-card. She did not return one back. But she's kept it in her box all these years, the baby pink shoe-box pushed underneath her bed.

Blair opens her eyes to stare at the city passing by her. This is not something that is going to ruin her, she tells herself, but she's always been a naive girl. Foolish and wishful, trying to will the world to bend at her command. The spiralling, inescapable ruin awaits her. But it's perhaps the ruining she's needed all these years.

 


End file.
